One Night (20 page)

‘You’re trying to frighten me.’

‘Just letting you know that I’m
around.’

‘I’m having the locks changed this
morning.’

His laugh was soft. ‘Wise girl. But
it doesn’t matter. They’re closing in on me, thanks to you.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Oh, I don’t mean about Mona.
They’ve got nothing on me and they know it. It’s the little cache in the woods
that they’re upset about. And that’s thanks to you. You had to bloody hide
there, didn’t you? So I’m in the hot spot. But there’s one thing I want you to
know, whatever happens, I did not kill Mona.’

‘Why is it so important for me to know
this, Brent?’

‘Because it’s the truth.’

‘So you’re saying that Matthew
Bunting did it?’

‘Of course he did it. The police
have enough evidence on that score.’

‘And not enough on you.’

He took a breath. ‘Nothing on me.’

‘Convenient.’

There was another pause. Then he
said, ‘I had no reason to kill Mona.’

‘She was planning on leaving you.’

‘You have been busy. How did you
know that?’

‘She told her mother.’

He snorted. ‘Dear little mums. Yes,
she wasn’t too happy with things. I was aware of that. Something we couldn’t
work out. We had plans to break up. I was okay with it. It was more amicable
that you think. Nothing to do with murder.’

‘She knew too much about you.’

‘If that was a reason for killing
her, then I would say the same applies to you. I could have killed you when I had
the chance.’

‘Are you threatening me?’

‘Why would I do that? Unless you’re
planning to lie to the police.’

‘I told them the truth. And I’ll
say it again if I’m asked.’

‘The truth as
you
see it. I
don’t take kindly to people spewing out a load of crap about me, so I’m going
to say one more time, I didn’t kill Mona – but if you continue to push that
idea you might just find your pretty little face smashed in. Got it?’

I was appalled. Why would he deny
violence in one breath and threaten it in the next?

‘You go to hell,’ I shrilled.

He laughed. ‘This is where I came
in. Goodbye, Casey. Don’t lose your new keys.’

The locksmith was a middle-aged man called Jock with the accompanying Scots
accent. He worked away at both locks, cheerily telling me about his family and
his new van that had gearbox trouble from day one. He replaced the Yale but
suggested a combination lock for the deadbolt. I said okay as long as it couldn’t
be picked like a safe.

‘They’d have to be pretty good to
do that, Miss.’

I thought of Brent and his links to
the underworld – and changed my mind.

‘I’ll go with another double lock,’
I said.

By the time he left it was after lunch. I tested my new keys. I had a spare set
for my mother and another for the concierge. Then I took Sticky for a walk to
the nearest park, my new keys clutched like a talisman in my hand. Finding a
quiet nook, I sat on a bench in the sun while Sticky began lawn inspection. I
let his lead go so he could potter as he pleased. I knew he wouldn’t go very
far. There were three children on the swings. A man was playing ball with his
teenage son. Some distance away two nurses sat eating lunch. It was quiet,
peaceful, warm. The night’s disturbed sleep caught up with me. I felt myself
dozing, occasionally waking to see Sticky’s bottom protruding from a bush.
Slowly, hazily, his bottom moved further away.

At some point, a sixth sense must
have alerted me to the fact that Sticky’s bottom had disappeared. I woke with a
start. ‘Sticky?
Sticky!
’

He was nowhere to be seen. I got up
and began searching up and down the paths, running across the lawn to the far
side where there was a small copse of trees, a thick line of bush. I ran round
the children’s swings, back to where I’d been sitting, then up the main path to
the gate. I looked along the pavement, across the road but there was no sign of
him. This was crazy. Sticky would never have come this far into the road. I
turned back and headed down the path through the park. The man and his son had
gone. So had the nurses. A group of children and two women were still milling
around the swings. One of the children came up to me.

‘You looking for your dog, miss?’

I looked into his serious little
face, immensely grateful somebody had taken notice. ‘Yes. Have you seen him?
About this high – and a sort of golden, very thick coat. He had a blue lead.’

‘He was with the man that took him
away.’

‘What man?’

‘I dunno, miss. But a man was
walking with him.’ He pointed. ‘They went out the gate.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘Yes, miss.’

‘David!’ A woman was looking at us
suspiciously. ‘Come on, we’re leaving now.’

The boy gave me a look of sympathy
crossed with intrigue, and turned away.

‘Thanks,’ I said emptily.
‘Goodbye.’

I turned back towards the gate and
ran. I went out the main gate. The road was quiet. It was a twenty minute walk
back to my flat. I did it in seven. I called Sticky’s name all the way, looking
between cars, over fences. People looked at me as though I was mad. And they
weren’t far wrong in that assumption. A man shouted ‘Oi, oi, oi!’ as I passed.
A little girl jumped up and down as I flew past, her laughter jangling in my
head. I ran without breath.
Sticky
. Who would steal an old dog that
looked like a hairy mat on four legs? It didn’t make sense. But if I lost
Sticky… The ache of this possibility wrenched at me.

As I burst into the foyer I saw the
concierge coming out of his office. ‘Ah, here she is!’ he said cheerily. There
was a shape behind him and Sticky’s head peering around the door.

‘Sticky!’ I gasped. ‘What the hell
happened to you?’

The concierge moved and Todd
Pennington came into view. ‘Ah,
there
you are! I was just asking Mr
Corbett if he knew where you were.’

Blind rage shook me. ‘What the fuck
do you think you’re doing?’

‘Oh, I say – ’ Mr Corbett’s face
reddened.

‘You stole my dog!’

Todd looked surprised. ‘No, not at
all. I found him wandering about. I looked for you in the park – but then I
thought I should just bring him home.’

‘You didn’t look very hard then! I
was
there
. I was on the park bench behind the swings.’

‘Oh!’ Todd looked suitably foolish.
‘Well, then I do apologize. I thought I was doing the right thing.’

I looked at him. Suspicion, dark
and snakelike, coiled in my mind. ‘You knew I was there,’ I said.

He half-laughed. Mr Corbett turned
to him in a little shock, mixed, I could see, with sympathy. Here was the poor
male being berated as usual by the little woman.
Men could do nothing right.

‘Of course I didn’t
know
you
were there,’ said Todd, with a masterful cross of amusement and bewilderment.
‘Why on earth would I take your dog if you were there?’

‘Because you need to find any
excuse to engage with me, to taunt me, to interfere with me. You’re obsessed!’
I made a little run forwards. ‘Give me my dog! And fuck off! Do you hear? Just
bloody well fuck off.’

‘Now, now,’ Mr Corbett began in
fatherly tones. ‘There’s no need for that. This young man did you a favour. The
dog was wandering in the road. I think you owe him an apology.’

I felt the breath scooting in and
out of my lungs. ‘That so?’ I asked, looking Todd in the eyes. ‘He was
wandering in the road?’

‘Well, yes – ’ Todd tried to look
innocent and defensive at the same time. ‘I thought somehow he must have
escaped from home.’

‘With his lead?’

Todd glanced helplessly at the
concierge, looking for support. ‘I wasn’t sure what to do.’

‘You know what?’ I spat. ‘You
should take Shannon’s place on the stage. You’re a bloody good actor. That’s
all I can say. I’ve no idea what you planned to achieve with this little game
but if it was to upset me, then you’ve done very well. And now – ’ I grabbed Sticky’s
lead from his unresisting hand. ‘Now you can just fuck off.’

‘Jeesh!’ Todd gave a hoot of
embarrassed laughter.

Mr Corbett was looking at me with
distaste. ‘Miss Blaydon, I’m glad I caught you. I saw the locksmith this
morning. I believe you’ve had the locks changed?’

I stood, Sticky’s lead now safely
in my hand. ‘Yes. What of it?’

‘Well, I’ll need a set of keys.
It’s Board policy, you know. We need to be able to get in if there’s a
problem.’

‘I’ve got a spare set for you. I’ll
get it.’

‘I’ll come up with you,’ said Todd.
‘Save you coming back down again.’

‘No, you bloody well won’t.’

‘Let’s all go,’ suggested Mr
Corbett. ‘I need to check that the job’s been properly done and there’s no damage.’

He was looking from Todd to me, a
twist of suspicion in his eyes. Clearly he was beginning to wonder if there was
some measure of truth in my accusations – or whether Todd was being maligned
and I was a bit of a nutter. And if the latter, my tenancy might have to be
reviewed.

We all squeezed into the lift. I
was so angry I could hardly breathe. My behaviour was beginning to look worse
for me than for Todd. And I understood this might just be his purpose. I tried
not to look at him but it was difficult. At last he caught my eye. His look was
speculative, a hint of amusement, a tinge of satisfaction. The dimple pulled in
his cheek. He loomed over me, his jacket loosely open revealing a flat, muscled
chest. I could smell a faint whiff of aftershave. I tried to look away,
blinking rapidly. His eyes kinked.

The lift cranked open at my floor.
I opened the door for Mr Corbett and to my annoyance, both men surged into my
flat. Mr Corbett inspected the new lock. Todd stood a couple of feet inside. I
could feel his presence radiating from him like an aura. I stared fixedly at Mr
Corbett.

‘This has been nicely done,’ he
announced. ‘You should see some of the workmanship these days. I’ll get the
number of this gentleman from you, if that’s all right.’

‘Sure.’ I went across the room and
found the paper on which I’d written the number and gave it to him.

He asked, ‘Did you lose your keys?’

‘I’m sorry?’

‘Why did you have the locks
changed? I see you’ve done both.’

For a moment I was nonplussed. I
said awkwardly, ‘Someone had keys and came in here.’

Pause. Mr Corbett said, ‘We don’t
hold with people handing out spare sets willy-nilly.’

It was my fault. I was to be
blamed. I was irresponsible. I couldn’t even look after my dog. Stiffly, I
defended, ‘They were stolen from my bag.’

I felt Todd shift beside me. Mr
Corbett’s glance flicked to him. His question unspoken, hovered. Clearly he was
considering Todd as a suspect. Then he looked back at me, preferring to peg the
whole thing as a lovers’ tiff.

‘All right then,’ he said, a little
gruffly. He turned away. ‘I’ll leave you – ’ pointedly he looked down at Sticky
‘ – to sort things out.’ He stopped in the doorway, unsure, something like
concern in his eyes. ‘I’m just downstairs if you need me.’

‘Thank you.’

Then he was gone, closing the door
behind him. There was a pregnant silence. Todd stood like an immoveable block
in my living room.

I said, ‘You can get out.’

He studied me for a moment. ‘You’re
under a lot of stress, Casey. You need to calm down.’

‘You get out – otherwise I’m
calling the police.’

He snorted. ‘To say what? That I
rescued your dog? And now – I’m about to make you a cup of tea?’ He moved to
the kitchen area. ‘You sit down. I’ll fix everything. I think you need a little
time to get yourself together.’

‘I want you out of my flat right
now!’

He stilled. He put up his hands
defensively. ‘All right, all right! Chill, girl. I’ll go.’ He came towards me.

‘Don’t you come near me!’

He stopped. ‘Casey, you’re not
well. You look so pale.’

‘I’m not pale,’ I said stupidly.

He edged nearer. ‘You’re so
wonderfully stubborn,’ he said softly.

‘Don’t touch me.’

His hand came up, closer, closer.
He cupped the side of my face. His palm was large and warm, warm.

I stood, immobile, a deep,
desperate ache suddenly moving in me. In some horror, I tried to suppress it
but I couldn’t. Now it was on its way, there was no stopping it. I felt the
wave of anguish burst. Tears swam. The room swayed. I was back in the night
forest, trees leaning black and grasping on all sides; the dark, the night, the
twisted branches. Mona’s dead face loomed. I was shaken by fear. When Todd’s
arms came around me I nestled into his strong warmth, my face buried in the fine
wool texture of his jersey, breathing in that comforting male scent.

When his lips bent to mine, I
responded. For a few seconds I let him kiss me as he wished, momentarily
oblivious to identity, only wanting the comfort of protecting arms, a warm
embrace.

Then I pulled away. His eyes looked
glazed, off-centre. I didn’t like the look.

‘That was a mistake,’ I said. ‘I’m
sorry.’

‘Oh, God, don’t apologize!’ He made
a move for me.

I dodged. ‘Please go now.’

He was staring. ‘I’m crazy for you,
Casey. Don’t you understand? You are the cutest, sharpest, spikiest little
creature I’ve met! I want to see more of you. Please – please come out with me
tomorrow night.’

‘I won’t do that.’

At last frustration crossed his
expression. ‘This is becoming pathetic.’

‘What?’

‘You’re taking this nunnery act to
extremes. I’m talking about a
date
, okay? A quiet supper somewhere where
we can talk. In public. Plenty of people around. You’d be quite safe.’

I was pulling at my hair, wiping my
face, trying to brush the feel, the scent of him off me. My cheeks were
burning. I had shown vulnerability. I had given him leverage. The thought
chilled me. His last word settled uncomfortably in my mind.